


Smoothly Protective

by Celly1995



Series: "Will It Blend?" [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Not Hockey Player(s), Cats, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Halloween, Hockey Player Patrick Kane, Hocus Pocus (1993) References, Jonny is Not a Pro Hockey Player, M/M, Movie Reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 14:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12584168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celly1995/pseuds/Celly1995
Summary: It starts with Patrick needing a favor. It ends with... well, Jonny's not entirely sure how it ends up the way it does, but he likes it.





	Smoothly Protective

**Author's Note:**

> Meant to get this up last month, but that didn't happen. Over the last few weeks, the plot morphed a bit, and took a last minute dip into some sugary sweetness. It's somewhat Halloween-related, so it's not entirely out of place, here. For maja_li, who wanted Kaner acquiring a kitten somehow. This...sort of is that thing? This is not even CLOSE to the ending I originally plotted. I don't even know. Sometimes, the boys just do their own thing and don't care what I think.

 

It's almost eight o'clock in the morning on Jonny's day off, but he's already feeling incredibly productive. He's a little irritated, too, but mostly in that resigned sort of way where you just roll your eyes, sigh deeply, and fucking accept shit.

Because it's the end of October. Which means that, after a brief lull in the frantic demand for all things Pumpkin Spice, the flavor has shot up in popularity again, boosted by the pumpkins that are freaking _everywhere_ as people start to get into the Halloween Spirit. Jonny's already had to listen to Patrick go through another round of I-told-you-so about his supposed "stroke of genius" two months ago.

Jonny maintains that it wasn't genius, since virtually everything under the goddamned sun is spiked with cinnamon, nutmeg, and clove this time of year. It was simply that Patrick was finally the one to wear him down to the breaking point of his (possibly somewhat-irrationally stubborn) resistance.

Jonny's just about to head back into the office and leave running the shop to Brandon, his assistant manager, when the bell above the main entrance jingles and Patrick himself practically crashes his way into the place, looking a little wide-eyed and something bordering on panicked. Jonny immediately has about a dozen questions for him—like 'are you okay?' and 'how did you find me here on my day off?'—and what he finally manages to get out is "what's wrong?" Which. Now that he hears it, sounds a little sharper than he means it to, the kind of question that wants an answer _now_. "You look kind of freaked out," he amends, when he can somewhat reasonably ascertain that Patrick hasn't been shot or anything of that nature. "What's going on?"

Patrick's eyes dart to Brandon, then back to Jonny. He licks his lips. "I, uh. Need a favor from you."

"You need a favor?" Jonny echoes. They've been dating for around half a year. He should know by now that Jonny will do pretty much anything within reason for him, if he really does need a favor. He shouldn't look so freaked out about having to ask. Granted, not everyone _knows_ he and Patrick are anything more than friends—Jonny thinks Ashley knows by this point, and Brandon figured it out a couple of months ago, when he looked up at the security feeds in the office's monitor and saw Jonny sneak a kiss in the back prep area; there are at least a handful of Patrick's teammates that figured it out back at the beginning of September, and Jonny knows Patrick's told a few close friends and both of their families are in the know—but at the very least, they've been friends for a while, and friends ask for favors all the time. Which really leads Jonny to his next question. "What kind of favor?"

"It's, uh, it's kind of...yeah," Patrick says, grimacing, like he doesn't want to have to ask for Jonny's help, or he's worried he'll be turned down. Jonny's about to tell him to just spit it out when he notices that Patrick's got his arms wrapped around himself kind of weirdly—and then something _moves_ under his hoodie, and Jonny feels a sense of dread mixed with his curiosity.

"Tell me you're not having some sort of chest-burster issue," Jonny says, staring at the moving thing as Patrick squirms and readjusts his hold around his middle. "If you are, it'd better be a test run for a Halloween costume. And in that scenario, you'd better not get fake blood anywhere in my shop, but especially not anywhere near the food." One of his morning regulars enters then, and Jonny gives her a wave and a smile, steps to the side, and pulls Patrick over with him with a tug of the sleeve. Now that Brandon's busy helping someone at the counter, Jonny looks at Patrick dead-on and raises his eyebrows. "What's the favor?" he asks, keeping his voice low.

Patrick licks his lips again, glances past Jonny's shoulder to make sure Brandon and his customer are otherwise occupied, and unzips the front of his hoodie just a few inches. After a moment, something black and fuzzy pops out. "This?"

Jonny just stares for a second. The fuzzy thing moves, turning around, and Jonny can see it's a little black kitten. And now he has all sorts of other questions. Namely, "When the fuck did you get a cat? And why is a non-service animal in my food service establishment?" He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Come back to the office with me. I don't want to have this conversation right here."

Patrick follows him, looking a bit sheepish, and Jonny tries not to get worked up before he even knows what's going on. Once the door is shut and locked behind them, he sighs. "Okay. Explain. The favor, specifically, and also everything else that's going on here."

 

"Okay, first, I'm really sorry for bringing an animal here. I know there's gotta be health code stuff involved. That's why he's hidden." Jonny nods, waiting for more. "Second, I didn't get a cat. I mean, not on purpose. I travel too much to have a pet. I can't leave some poor thing alone in my condo for that long. He's not mine, is what I'm saying. I don't even know if it's a boy cat, dude. I'm just calling him _him_ because he looks like a him. He doesn't belong to anyone I can ask."

"Then whose is it?" Jonny asks, squinting at it. All kittens look like kittens to him. Hell if he can tell its sex, either way. 

"No one's."

"Are you sure—"

"Pretty positive, Jonny," Patrick says, and the look on his face is _not_ a good one. "I was coming out of the gas station half an hour ago, and there was this plastic bag by the trashcan outside, and I didn't think anything of it, until I heard noises coming from it and then saw it move, and then...yeah. I pulled this little guy out of it."

"Someone _left_ that kitten in a trash bag?" Jonny asks, horrified. He'd like to believe there aren't people that shitty in the world, but...there you go. 

"Yeah. The attendant said he hadn't seen anyone put it there, but that people left trash from their cars a lot and he never really paid attention to that sort of thing anymore. So I took him with me, because I couldn't just _leave_ him there and the dude working said that he's allergic. And then I sort of realized I didn't know what to do with him. The humane society doesn't even open for another hour, and I have to be across town, at my accountant's office, at the same time they open. And then I have practice right after that. I can't just leave him in my _car_ for hours. So...since you're not working today, I was kinda hoping...you could look after him?" The look on Jonny's face must not be all that enthusiastic, because Patrick's quick to add, "Just until I get done with practice! Then I'll come snag him and take him to the shelter and make sure he's taken care of. You won't have to worry about him after that."

"Patrick..." Jonny begins, and then sighs. He doesn't even know why he's attempting to protest. They both know Jonny's not going to toss this poor thing out on the street, _especially_ not after hearing how Patrick came upon it in the first place. Cats have never been his _thing_ , specifically, but Jonny loves nearly all animals—pigeons excepted—and, regardless, this poor kitten doesn't deserve what's happened to it. Jonny doesn't really want to be the one to traumatize it further. He doesn't need that kind of karma. "What time are you done with practice?"

Patrick's face lights up in relief. "I'll be out of there by one, I swear. And then right over to your place."

"All right." He runs through a couple of things in his head. "Just. Stay right here with it for a couple of minutes. I've gotta go talk to Brandon." He leaves a very agreeable Patrick behind and heads back out to the front of the shop, where Brandon's just saying goodbye to a group of four high-school-aged customers. "Hey, this is weird, but...I'm going to do that order, like I said I would, and then go through a couple of things for the new menu update like we talked about. So I'll be in the office for maybe an hour or a little less before taking off." None of that is new information. "But, uh, I'm going to have something back there, so the office will be kind of closed off for a while. And I won't be able to come up here again before I leave."

Brandon's eyebrows go up. "Is this related to whatever reason Pat came skidding into the shop a few minutes ago? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I just sort of have to babysi—uh, cat-sit—for a few hours. Kind of a sudden thing. I'm going to keep it back there, out of all of the prep areas, and get it out of the building as soon as I can. Ashley should be in within an hour to help you for the morning rush, and out at one-thirty. Garrett's in at eleven, here till close."

Brandon gives him a thumbs up. "All right. Go have fun with your pet-sitting duties. I'll see you tomorrow morning." He turns to help the middle-aged couple who walk in just then, and Jonny sighs to himself and heads back to the office.

"What would you have done if this wasn't my day off?" Jonny asks as he shuts the office door behind him and Patrick (and the kitten) again. He scans the room for any inherent hazards to a small, floor-level animal and realizes that there are at least a few—rolling office chairs being only one of them. "And how did you even know I'd be here?"

"I dunno. About the day off thing, I mean. As far as you being here, I went by your place, didn't see your car, and you didn't answer your phone, which usually means you're driving or at the shop. So I took a guess and figured this was the most likely place to find you. Again, no idea what the plan was if you _weren't_ actually here. Go harass Sharpy and his wife, I guess. But they have a dog, so...not really my first option, you know?"

"I see." Jonny sighs. He didn't really mean to stay here for much longer than he's already been in the shop this morning, so at least this isn't throwing a total wrench into his plans. It means he has to put off his planned time at his condo's fitness center, but that's not exactly the end of the world, either. "Guess you lucked out, then."

"I think this little dude's the one that lucked out, really," Patrick says, giving Jonny a look that he knows is supposed to butter him up. He doesn't want to admit that it kind of works. A little. "Again, though, thank you. I mean it. I'll make it up to you, okay?"

"Yeah, all right," Jonny says. He doesn't actually expect Patrick to do anything special to 'make it up' to him, for doing a favor that'll only take a few hours out of one day. And it's best to not expect anything in particular anyway, since Jonny's learned over the last six or seven months that Patrick's version of 'repayment' varies pretty goddamn widely. So far, that's included Patrick bringing him a bar of stupidly-expensive organic ultra-dark chocolate, a night out at a restaurant Jonny'd been wanting to try but could never quite get a reservation for, a supply of Canadian candies hidden in Patrick's luggage on the trip back from a game in Toronto, an offer to put another of those (quite frankly) awful kale condoms to use in any way Jonny wanted, a cookbook from one of Jonny's favorite chefs, autographed and with a personalized inscription inside the front cover, a couple of hours arranged where Jonny could skate with Patrick and a few of the other guys on the team, and a marathon blow job and sex session followed by a massage so relaxing that Jonny may as well have been braindead or comatose for the next several hours, for as useless as it left him. 

So, you know, there's sort of a wide range of things that Patrick could pull from, when it comes to paying Jonny back, and Jonny would really rather not even hazard a guess. It's nice enough that he knows Patrick legitimately does intend to make it up to him in some way, to demonstrate his appreciation.

"You're the best," Patrick tells him seriously, reaching into his hoodie and pulling the kitten out. He plops him into Jonny's waiting arms and gives the kitten's head a pat. "Seriously," he says, leaning in to give Jonny a quick kiss before he dashes out of the office, shutting the door behind him. 

"You hear that?" Jonny asks the kitten. "I'm the best." The kitten meows, and Jonny huffs a small laugh. "I'm choosing to take that as agreement."

* * *

Jonny's busy trying to corral the kitten away from the wires behind the computer monitor and toward the little chill-area he's set up for it when there's a knock at the office door just before a key slips into the lock and turns, letting Ashley into the office.

"Hey, Brandon threw me his key so I could grab another roll of quarters and I don't know what I'm supposed to be so careful about back here, but _oh my God_ ," she says as she steps through the door, and her voice goes high enough on the last few words that Jonny almost winces. "Oh my God, look at that adorable little sweetheart! I didn't know you got a kitten!"

"I didn't, exactly," Jonny says, finally successfully extricating the kitten out from the mess of wires and cradling him so he doesn't run out the door while it's open. "Could you, uh, shut that, for a second?"

"What? Oh, yeah, sorry!" She closes the door, stepping further inside as Jonny unlocks the smaller of the two safes, one-handed. He roots around for a roll of quarters, still holding the kitten in his left hand, and finally snags one, handing it over. "He's the cutest thing I've seen all year, seriously. Or she."

"Yeah," Jonny says, because of course it's cute. It's a kitten. It's also a little prickly, because it's got all its claws, and it startles kind of easily. Not that Jonny blames it. "And I'm not actually sure which it is yet, sorry."

"I'll be right back with the ten," Ashley says, managing to tear her eyes away as she walks back out of the office. It's not until the door shuts again that Jonny looks at the clock and realizes she's a good half-hour early for her shift, then remembers her saying something last week about dropping her cousin off at the airport on Monday morning. Jonny's honestly surprised she's not cutting it close with being here on time. Monday morning traffic around O'Hare is pretty shitty, any way you slice it. But at least her being early means he hasn't lost as much time to kitten-wrangling as he's feared.

"Hey, what about hanging out in a box or something, while I get a couple of these recipes costed out?" Jonny asks the kitten, using his most encouraging voice. "Cats like boxes, right?" He's got three empty ones within sight, plus a couple of old table cloths that are still hanging around from a display that used to sit right next to the grab-and-go, before he'd expanded that cooler. He's kind of lacking anything toy-like that would be safe for a small animal, but maybe just a box is enough. He stands and moves a few things out of the way before he drags the smallest box a little closer over the countertop and places the kitten gently inside, despite its protesting meow at being put down. "How's that, buddy?" he asks the kitten as it pops its head up over the side and meows at the door that's opening again. "Are we cool?"

The kitten meows again, and Jonny hopes that means yes.

"Oh my gosh," Ashley says, handing Jonny a couple of five-dollar bills without even looking at him, eyes glued to the cat. "He's like the perfect little Halloween kitty, isn't he? I just want to put him in a pumpkin and take a million photos for Instagram!"

"...That's actually not a bad idea," Jonny says slowly.

"Are you serious?" Ashley asks, looking up at Jonny from where she's crouched in front of the box. She looks more like Christmas has come early than that her boss has gone with her off-handed comment.

"Yeah, I guess so," Jonny says with a shrug. "You want to set something up back here before you have to go work up at the front with Brandon?" It'll probably keep the kitten occupied, so Jonny can finish up what he's got to get done. "Use whatever you can find in the office or in the break room, but don't let him into any of the prep or customer areas."

"Oh man, this is gonna be the best thing ever," Ashley tells him. "Definitely better than going over to my cousin's place just to get my regular kitten fix. Come with me, little guy." She picks up the kitten, who snuggles immediately into her arms. "We'll get you set up like the gorgeous model you are." Jonny shakes his head, grinning a little, and turns back to the computer while Ashley starts to move a few things around in the corner.

"All right, so, what do you think?" Jonny hears about ten minutes later, and it takes him a second to realize his employee is speaking to him and not the cat. He hits 'save' and then 'print' on the documents he has open, then turns around to see what's been going on behind his back. "Cutest thing ever, right?"

Jonny just raises his eyebrows. There's practically a mini studio set in the corner of the long counter, the office lamps arranged around a bunch of stuff Jonny knew was back here, but hadn't thought about in terms of props. Ashley's used a handful of the small decorative gourds that have been waiting for it to switch over to November before they go out next to the upcoming sign about Thanksgiving-themed treats, propped up on a wooden crate one of Jonny's suppliers had delivered some samples in. Set in front of those is one of the smaller pumpkins that hadn't been used for the jack o'lanterns that Brandon, Garrett, and Kelsey had taken turns making a couple of days ago. Underneath everything is a purposefully-bunched up pile of tablecloths, including the faded brown one that now looks kind of orange in places from where the sun had hit it for nearly three years. "I almost feel bad we don't have a hay bale hanging out somewhere for you to use."

Ashley laughs. "Yeah, well, this is already pretty awesome. Not bad for on the fly, right? You want to take a couple of photos, while I see if I can get this little guy to actually pose for us?"

"Sure." Jonny snaps about three dozen pictures in total, about half of which actually show off the cat. He's definitely still not any sort of social media or photography expert, but the photos look pretty good to him, especially the ones of the kitten climbing on the pumpkin, and gnawing experimentally on one of the yellow and green gourds. He even lets Ashley take a few selfies with the kitten, using her own phone, while he finishes a few more things on the computer and logs out. "Maybe I'll post one of these with the photos of the Halloween pumpkins on the shop accounts tomorrow," Jonny muses as Ashley rubs the kitten's belly before tucking it into the carrier they've devised to transport it safely to Jonny's place.

"Patrick would be so proud of your social media efforts." Ashley grins, shedding her sweater and grabbing a half-apron from the stack sitting in the corner. "I'm posting _my_ pictures on my break," she adds, waving one last time to the kitten before heading to the front for her shift.

Jonny makes a face as he puts on his own jacket and jots a quick note to Brandon, asking him to change Ashley's clock-in time to twenty minutes earlier in the payroll program tonight, since she technically did some marketing work for him. That's one more thing Patrick's going to lord over him—cute animal picture opportunities for his business. "Ugh, he's going to be insufferable," Jonny mutters, picking up the makeshift cat-carrier. From inside its cozy transport device, the kitten meows agreeably, and Jonny snorts, unable to keep from smiling a little as he walks them both out to his car.

* * *

All in all, this isn't the most difficult or distasteful of favors Jonny could be doing someone. A little part of him kind of enjoys it, getting to have a temporary pet for company. He's lived by himself for years, and he's never really felt lonely at all in that time. But he feels it every now and then, lately, and he's aware enough to guess that it's got something to do with all the times he'd like to be spending with his boyfriend, but can't due to either or both of their schedules. This particular favor had meant he'd had to do some running around to make sure all the doors to his place were firmly shut and getting a dozen or so items up a bit higher than they normally are, to keep the hazards to both the kitten and his possessions minimized, but that wasn't anything to complain about.

There had, however, been a definite moment of regret when Jonny had looked up at a loud noise only to find his potted aloe plant tipped over, with potting soil strewn around it. It had been a somewhat more intense moment of regret to find, upon cleaning up that mess, that his four-foot-tall flowering maple had been gifted with a little surprise deposit.

Jonny supposes that's what he gets for having potted plants indoors with a cat, and no litter box available.

 _Done with the accountant. Heading to practice,_ Patrick texts him shortly after Jonny's rescued his plants and moved a couple of others into his guest room, where they'll be safe. _Everything going okay?_

 _Everything's fine,_ Jonny sends back. He decides not to tell Patrick about the unplanned plant fertilization. He's already snagged one of the deep, disposable foil casserole-dish-sized catering pans from the back of his cupboards and filled it with the potting soil he changed out of his flowering maple. He's hoping that will ward off any surprises or accidents for the next few hours. _Just focus on practice._ The Hawks are playing the Capitals here at home two days from now, and the Caps have been doing pretty well so far this season. There's no need to have Patrick distracted and worrying over the kitten, when he's got more important things to concentrate on.

Patrick sends him the thumbs-up emoji, and that's that. 

It turns out the kitten, for as little as it is, is fairly low-maintenance. It doesn't seem to require that Jonny keep it entertained for the entire morning and, other than running across the room at top fucking speed to hide under the sofa when Jonny uses the food processor, it seems pretty chill. It's been a lot less skittish since its playtime with Ashley, thank God. There have been noticeably fewer pin-pricks from teeth and claws since then. Jonny lures it out from under the furniture and apologizes once he's done in the kitchen, no longer worried about getting mauled on a tiny scale. Both recipes he's put together are finishing up in the oven and the dehydrator, and he's got some time to actually play with the cat and give it some attention if it wants it. He's just gotten it to lay next to him on the sofa while he flips through TV channels when his phone chimes. It's too early for it to be Patrick, so Jonny's not surprised when it's not his name that pops up on the alert, but he is a little surprised to see Ashley's.

 _What's the cat's name?_ is the message sitting in his inbox, and Jonny pauses for a minute, because, well, because.

 _Doesn't have one_ he sends back. Why?

 _I keep getting comments on IG asking what it is._ That's followed almost immediately by _What do you mean, he doesn't have a name? Who doesn't name their pet right away?_

Jonny looks down at the kitten. "Well, what do you want to be named?" he asks it, like it'll answer. It doesn't even meow at him, instead content to swish its tail back and forth and purr quietly while Jonny pets it. "All right, fine, be no help." _It was abandoned. Taking it to the shelter later, so they can home it. What would you call it, if it was yours to name?_

A couple of minutes pass before his phone chimes again. _Binx_.

"What the hell kind of name is Binx?" Jonny murmurs as the cat rolls over and stretches before repositioning itself for more pettings. He sends the same question back, cleaned up a little, because he may be a little more casual with his employees than he would if he were in some corporate-owned chain or whatever, but he's still talking to one of his staff members. Not that he has any idea what to name a cat, either, but still. 

_Are you serious?_ pings through after a moment. Two minutes later, it's followed by _Both Brandon and Garret refuse to believe you don't know that movie_.

 

Jonny raises his eyebrows and does a quick internet search. From what he gathers, he's the only living person in North America to have never seen _Hocus Pocus_. Great, now his staff's going to be judging his taste in movies. _Oh, right,_ he sends back, even though he only recognizes the name of the movie that pops up in all of the search results. He's definitely never seen it. Actually, he's more surprised that most of his staff members _have_ , given how long ago it came out. He would have been a little kid when it was in theaters, and he thinks Brandon might have been born the year or so before it was made, but he knows for a fact both Ashley and Garrett were born at least a few years after that. _Well, Binx it is. I'll make sure the shelter staff knows it when they take him in to get checked out before adoption._

_Good._

"I guess you're Binx," Jonny tells the cat as he gets up to check on the stuff in the oven. The kitten just rolls over again and curls up in the warm spot on the sofa Jonny leaves behind. "Good to know you don't have any objections to that." It's better than a lot of potential names, anyway. He leaves the kitten to its nap and pulls the small batch of peanut butter and applesauce treats out of the oven to cool. He'd found the recipe online on a whim just after getting home, and since he already had some of the ingredients out for the recipe he'd already planned on making for himself as a chilly autumn day treat, he figured he might as well. He's had a few requests here and there over the years for the shop to carry something along these lines, and Jonny figures it's worth testing out. Hell, he hadn't thought much of the harvest spice smoothie idea either, and that's definitely gone well enough. It's even opened up a spot for him to actually try out new things on his menu, aside from the assortment of things in the grab-and-go coolers, now that he's got the special new board up that's perfect for seasonal recipes or experiments that Jonny gets excited about, when inspiration strikes.

That sort of inspiration is responsible for the Number Eighty-Eight, in fact. Jonny plans to keep that one a 'secret menu' item for now, anyway, even if it does have its own loyal following. He spent damn near a year tweaking that recipe to his liking, finally happy with it several months before the first time Patrick had stormed into his shop. The day after he tentatively decided there would be no more changes to that specific concoction, the Hawks had won the Cup, and Jonny left it the hell alone.

There's a knock on the front door a while later, as Jonny's removing his snacks from the dehydrator, and he calls out to Patrick as he lets himself inside. "In the kitchen!" 

"Are you ready to take him to the...okay, dude, are you making him eat some random hippy recipe?"

"Oh, relax," Jonny says, rolling his eyes. He's still holding out a bit of the pet treat while the kitten sniffs at it while Jonny's treats cool just a little. "It's from the ASPCA blog."

"...You're making this poor cat taste-test your recipes," Patrick says, shaking his head.

"You say that like I didn't just see you sniffing around, trying to figure out what else you're smelling," Jonny says with a smirk. "Next to the dehydrator, by the way."

"Holy shit, are those donuts? You. You made donuts."

"Yeah."

"Okay, what's the catch? Because if you've made actual, real donuts, I'm calling someone to report that my boyfriend's been taken over by aliens or something."

"They're not fried. They're a nearly-raw version of apple cider donuts, okay?"

"Oh thank God, you're really Jonny," Patrick says with exaggerated relief, hand over his heart. "Also, I'm totally stealing one, but please don't tell me what all is in them until after I've had a few bites." He snags one from the plate Jonny's put them on and makes a soft noise of surprise and happiness. "Ooh, still warm, nice." 

"So they're not terrible," Jonny says, deadpan, after Patrick's fucking inhaled a whole donut and is reaching for a second. 

 

"Uh-uh," Patrick says agreeably. "And that's not even because you know I'll eat just about anything after practice. Speaking of, why don't we grab a late lunch, if you haven't eaten? There's that place with the stir-fries near my condo, if you want that, or we can do that Italian place that offers the rice pasta, too. Or we can find someplace near the humane society, after we drop off this anonymous little guy. Who, by the way, apparently enjoys whatever that is that you made him, look."

"His name is Binx," Jonny informs Patrick as he turns around to look at the kitten, who's enthusiastically going to town on the piece of the applesauce peanut butter treat Jonny had broken off for him and left on the counter. 

"Dude, that's perfect!" Patrick says, reaching for yet another donut before Jonny knocks his hand away. "He looks just like him. I love that movie. I didn't know you did, too."

"I've never seen it," Jonny says with a shrug, and Patrick gapes at him. "Ashley named the cat."

"Okay, well, _she_ has excellent taste in movies, and you can tell her I said so," Patrick says, giving Jonny a look. "Also, as soon as we get back from the shelter, we are sitting our asses down and watching that movie. I guarantee it's either on right now, or can be found on your cable's on-demand option, or is on Netflix or something. I think there's a channel that plays it damned near back-to-back this time of year. How have you _not_ seen it?"

Jonny shrugs, wondering if Ashley also shares Patrick's love of the _Twilight_ movies. He's not sure if that would be better or worse, especially if he ends up really having to watch them after all. "I don't know."

"Well, we're going to fix that tonight," Patrick says, firmly. He reaches down and gives the kitten a few good pats, grinning when it nuzzles at his hand. "At least someone likes you enough to give you an awesome name," he tells it. "Unlike this guy over here who uses you as a taste-tester."

"Hey, I like him!" Jonny says indignantly, because he actually does. The kitten's pretty cool, and Jonny's already forgiven it for the whole natural-fertilizer incident.

"Oh, what, you want to keep him now?" Patrick asks with a snort. "I thought you'd said you're not really ready for a pet, when my sister asked if you wanted one of her dog's puppies last month."

"I'm not," Jonny says, which is true. He'd kind of like a pet, and he's also probably more likely to get a dog than a cat, but it's actually all kind of...complicated, in his head, about the whole loneliness thing that's also tied up in him wanting an actual house or place with more room before he gets a pet, and he isn't quite sure how to explain it. "And _you_ like Binx, but you're not keeping him," he points out.

"I told you, I'm not home half the season, which takes up half the year," Patrick says, bending down closer to sort of headbutt the kitten. "I can't leave a pet alone for that long." He says something else, but it's mumbled and Jonny doesn't catch it.

"What was that last part?" Jonny asks, reaching for the rest of the pet treat, to feed the kitten. 

 

"I said, I already feel shitty leaving _you_ alone that much," Patrick says, face kind of red, and Jonny sort of fumbles the treat before catching it. 

 

"I'm not a pet," Jonny says, slowly, focusing on holding another piece of the treat out to the cat, because he can't figure out what else to do. He's not sure if he's been giving off vibes that he's been thinking about that sort of thing now and then, or what. He definitely hasn't _meant_ to. It's not something he's bitter or resentful over. It's just a fact of how things are, and Jonny knew that going in. 

"I know, and that's not what I meant," Patrick says, still flushed. "It's...okay, it's hard to put that into better words. Just. Forget I said anything? Let's just focus on the fact that you've clearly hired good people, who give their pets awesome names."

"Speaking of..." Jonny ventures, "what if we didn't drop Binx off at the shelter?" He sees Patrick's eyebrows go up, so he's quick to add clarification. "Meaning, what if we offered him to Ashley, first? She kept talking about how much she liked him at the shop, and I know she's had cats before, because she was telling me about them when we were watching Binx back in the office. If she doesn't want him for real or can't have him because of her lease or something along those lines, we'll do the original plan. But I'd rather Binx go to someone I trust, you know?" He's been sort of mulling it over as an option for the last couple of hours. It's not like he wants to make a _thing_ of giving one of his employees a gift like a pet or anything, but this is kind of its own circumstance. His staff is nearly like family, in all honesty. He's had almost no turnover at all in at least a year and a half, with the exception of the few part-timers he's hired specifically for the summer months, when business is at its peak.

Patrick nods. "Yeah. I get it."

"Good." Jonny leans in and quickly kisses Patrick, who seems to relax a little at the gesture. "Here, finish giving him this treat while I get a hold of her. And keep your hands off my apple cider donuts, or I'll list out the nutritional benefits of each and every ingredient."

Patrick makes a face at him.

Ashley's response to Jonny's offer indicates pretty damn clearly that she really is willing to adopt Binx and can have the basics of cat-care supplies acquired from the pet place closest to where she lives within thirty minutes. Jonny tells her he'll bring Binx by within an hour, gets directions to her place, and hopes she's not going to speed to the pet store so fast she gets a ticket. 

Patrick tags along on the delivery for the hell of it, securing the cat and its carrier between his feet, and he stays in the car when Jonny runs into the restaurant to place an order for them to pick up on their way back. He even comes up to Ashley's place to turn Binx over, mostly just so he can give her a high-five for her naming choices. But he's sort of quiet on the way over, and he's even quieter on the way back from dropping the kitten off, and Jonny isn't sure how to break the silence that feels just a little awkward.

It isn't until Jonny comes back to the car with their food that he gets even a small idea of what's been behind the weirdness. "You know I appreciate you doing me this favor today, right?" Patrick says, as Jonny slips back into the driver's seat, food now settled on the space between Patrick's feet that the kitten had occupied just recently.

"Yeah," Jonny says, mouth quirking up on one side. "I know."

"Okay. Good." That's all Patrick says before falling silent again, and Jonny just lets him be. The quiet between them is weird, but Jonny's not actually _worried_. Things have been good between them. Really good, in fact. He's not sure he's ever had a relationship this good, this _healthy_ , even if they've only been together a little over six months. They've definitely had a few challenges, especially as Patrick's career has made the logistics of dating somewhat challenging, but they've made it all work so far. So Jonny doesn't prod him about it, sure that Patrick will eventually spit out whatever it is he means.

They're settling onto Jonny's sofa with their food spread out on the coffee table in front of them and Jonny's trying to find some way to easily watch the movie everyone is aghast he hasn't seen when Patrick clears his throat. "I really do feel shitty about it, you know," he says, sort of to the living room rug, and Jonny stops scrolling through menus to look at him.

"About what?"

"Leaving you alone so much," Patrick says, still half-addressing the floor. Jonny opens his mouth to reaffirm that he isn't a pet, doesn't need looking after like an animal does, when Patrick shakes his head and makes a vaguely irritated noise. "Shit, that's coming out wrong again. Okay. Hold on, I can do this." He takes a deep breath, and Jonny holds his, honestly unsure exactly what Patrick's getting at. He's not getting a vibe like he's about to be dumped or anything, but it feels like whatever Patrick's got going through his head is kind of important, at least to him. "I love hockey. I love what I do. Right?"

"Yeah, of course." That's—that's obvious, really. Patrick's _good_ at it, and so few people are lucky enough to excel at something, love doing it, and actually _get_ to spend their lives doing it. 

"And there's that saying, do what you love, and you'll never work a day in your life," he says, as if he's plucked the thought from Jonny's brain. "It means that things will always be enjoyable, and you'll never resent it or be bored or hate it. But it doesn't mean things will never be hard."

"Okay," Jonny says, slowly. He sets the remote down, so Patrick knows he has Jonny's full attention. "With you so far."

"What I'm trying to say is...shit, what am I trying to say?" He bites at his lower lip. "What I'm trying to say is, even though I love it and never want to give it up until I know it's time and I've put in all I can, that now, there's a little part of it I _do_ kind of hate. And it's—it's not going to make me be stupid about it, or lash out in some way and rebel. I think it's just sort of opened my eyes as far as certain things are concerned and given me a clearer perspective."

"Okay," Jonny says again, still unsure exactly what's about to be admitted, here.

"Oh my God, Erica told me not to fuck this thing up, but I should have listened and written cue cards," Patrick says with a slightly exasperated laugh at himself. "Fuck it, I'm just gonna blurt it out. I hate not getting to see you enough, and I want that to change."

"You...do?" Jonny asks, still sort of at a loss. He wonders for just a second if he's been talking in his sleep or something, prompting Patrick into thinking he has to address something he's not sure how to talk about. "Change how?"

Patrick's face turns a little pink. "Honestly, aside from when I score a goal or we win a game, basically my favorite moments are spent with you. And I'm not even talking about the sex, or having someone who understands what I mean when I talk about hockey shit. I mean the stupid shit, even, like harassing you at the shop, or waking up from a nap to see you passed the fuck out next to me and drooling on the pillow, or hearing your dumb laugh when someone makes a stupid joke, or just the way you smile at me or say my name when I've made you happy somehow, or even when you smack my hand away from the obnoxiously healthy treats you've made, because you want some for yourself and you also always try to make sure I'm doing what's best for my body and my playing." 

Jonny's suddenly a little warm and kind of flustered and...gooey. His insides might be melting, he's not sure. And then Patrick keeps going.

"I want that all the time. I want you there when I go to sleep, and when I wake up. As often as I can. So, shit, uh, if that's too forward or too fast, I'm not _necessarily_ asking you to move in with me, like, right now, but I'm also...not...not asking that?" He clears his throat again. "And I'm maybe going to have to step outside and walk into traffic now, because I think it's pretty likely I did actually fuck that whole thing up. Ugh, this is why people write this shit out in movies." His eyes flick up to Jonny's. "You going to say something, here, man, or am I just gonna have to hope for a spontaneous bit of amnesia on your part?"

"No, I. You. Um," Jonny says, trying to get his own words into some sort of coherent order. Jesus, Patrick hasn't even publicly come out or anything, but the way he's talking, the stuff he's implying, it goes in tandem with some of the things Jonny's been feeling, too. Okay. Focus. Breathe. This isn't a marriage proposal. It isn't even strictly being asked to move in together. "I'm. I'm not against the thing you're talking about. I...I really like where things are going with us. And yeah, the travel's made some things kind of tough, and I sure as shit wish we got to spend more time together. But you already know I love you, you asshole. If you're _trying_ to scare me off, you're fucking _that_ up, sure. But otherwise, yeah. Let's maybe not start packing boxes tonight, but...if this is the direction you want to head, I'm with you."

"Yeah?"

Jonny rolls his eyes, but he's also grinning pretty hard at Patrick, who's starting to mirror the expression. "Yeah. Now get over here and help me find this damned movie everyone's so damned in love with, would you?"

Patrick laughs and swipes the remote, finding the movie in under thirty seconds, and Jonny distinctly thinks that this is one of those little moments like Patrick had mentioned. They settle in together with their food, and Jonny's actually kind of getting a kick out of the movie. They're at the point where Billy gets resurrected when Patrick makes an interested noise and Jonny glances over. "What?"

"So I know you said no way in hell were you going to be Robin to my Batman, or Lois Lane to my Superman at Sharpy's Halloween party tomorrow night, even though you couldn't make the official team party, but...we could always stay in and use these instead?" Patrick says, angling his phone's screen towards Jonny, so he can see what Patrick's got pulled up.

Jonny stares at the screen for a moment, takes in the candy-corn-flavored condoms Patrick's found God-knows-where, thinks about both the Pumpkin Spice Condom Incident and the Kale Condoms of Retribution, and huffs. "Fuck it, I take it back. If you can find a Lois Lane costume that'll fit my ass and high-heeled shoes in my size, let's do it. I'll laminate a Daily Planet Press Pass first thing tomorrow morning. Anything to keep you from bringing those abominations home, seriously."

Patrick chokes on laughter and falls sideways onto Jonny's lap. "Holy shit, I'm really _not_ gonna scare you off, am I?" he manages after a moment, wiping tears out of his eyes.

"I fucking told you, you dork," Jonny says with exasperation, but he's smiling as Patrick tries to get his laughter out of control. "But no more ridiculous flavored condoms once we live together, whenever that is, so help me God."

"Oh, Jonny," Patrick sighs, shifting on the couch and pulling Jonny on top of him. "You're gonna eat those words, in every flavor I can find. Maybe even starting with cranberry, or candy cane, ooh, or _maple!_ " He laughs at Jonny's indignant noise, cutting off any further protests with a kiss and then a bite to Jonny's lower lip. "Besides, then I'd just have more things to make up to you."

"Hard to argue that," Jonny mumbles against Patrick's jaw. "The shit I put up with for love."

Patrick just laughs at him again, and Jonny wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
